Moon
by Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: There's a guest in her house - or, to be more frank, she's a guest in her own home. Part 10 of the Fairytale/Supernatural series.
1. Chapter 1

The apartment was old. It was a place where the elevator had a gate on it that had to be pulled back and the wallpaper and carpet in the hallways would have been outdated forty years ago. But these were superficial complaints, because it couldn't damper the excitement that Daisy felt at living alone.

Her apartment room hadn't been lived in for a long time. The last time was about three years ago, and it was neglected after that. It was easily overlooked and often locked to prevent wanderers from coming in. Daisy thought it was a broom closet when she first saw the door.

But it was cheap. And there were at least four rooms, so Daisy was happy with what she got.

She had spent most of the day scrubbing out the three years' worth layer of dust, and cleaning out the shower with bleach and vacuuming the outdated carpets. "Take that, dust mites," she thought triumphantly, "Get out of here, silverfish! Spiders, this isn't your home anymore."

The day grew dark, and she wasn't nearly done but it felt fulfilling. She walked out of the bathroom and headed to the living room.

There was somebody standing in the hallway and Daisy's heart jumped into her throat. All of her fear dissipated with one bellow, and she rushed forward to tackle the intruder.

She went right through him and fell roughly to the floor. She hissed at the carpet burn on her elbows and pushed herself upward.

"Oh no, oh no," said the intruder, "I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

Daisy's mouth hung open. Now that she got a better look, this intruder looked wispy and floated a little above the ground. She stood up and tried to put her hand on the intruder's shoulder and it fell right through. The shoulder felt like fog.

"Oh, um, I'm a ghost, you see," said the intruder, in a helpful tone; like he was giving instructions on how to properly fold paper into a crane.

"G…" Daisy shook her head. "All right, then, I need some answers."

The ghost waited patiently in the living room, just slightly hovering over the cushion of the couch, like he had forgotten how humans sat. Daisy had gone to the kitchen for something to drink, if the conversation went on for a long time.

Daisy wondered if this was retribution for reading all of those horror stories as a kid. Like one had decided, "This kid decided to study me, so I'll make myself comfortable" and thought it was smart to stand ominously in a hallway.

There had been one particular story where a screamer popped up, the photo showing some sort of clown monster with blackish blood staining the collar complete with a droning noise mixed with a man's hellish screaming.

The sound would pop into her head when she was completely alone, like when trying to sleep or getting something out of a dark room.

Daisy pinched the bridge of her nose. Great, now that sound kept playing in a loop in her head.

She spotted the salt and pepper shakers on the counter. Pepper was the one that got rid of ghosts, maybe. It made them sneeze back to the underworld or something.

This ghost could turn out to be some demon in disguise and drag her off to eternal suffering. All for deciding to move into an apartment room that she had originally thought was a broom closet, apparently.

Daisy picked up the pepper shaker and considered it. But if this was a well meaning ghost then tossing pepper in his face would be pretty rude.

She put the pepper shaker down and went to the fridge to grab a can of orange juice. She headed over to the living room and settled down in a chair across from the ghost.

"All right," she said, and the ghost sat up straight. "So, first things first: what is your name?"

"Luigi," said the ghost. "I can't remember my last name, it's been too long, I think…"

"Too long?"

"Since I, um…" Luigi waved his hands around. "Died. I think it was… well, I didn't have a clock or anything, so… Maybe a Tuesday."

"Ah," said Daisy. She averted her eyes, trying to think of a way to smooth over the awkward subject of death. "Do you remember anything?"

"I lived here, I know that," Luigi replied. "At least, I woke up here, after I died. I was sick, I think, and my brother…"

He stopped. His head fell, and he clasped his hands. "There was a lot of panic and tears… I think it was too much, because he moved out after that…"

"Well," Daisy said, trying to keep her voice hopeful, "I can see you, so, maybe we can find him and let you know you're here."

"I can't remember his name." He seemed to become smaller, his shoulders hunched up. "And I wouldn't want to put him through that again."

Daisy reached out her hand and stopped at the last moment. She curled the hand into a fist and drew it back, resting the hand in her lap.

"I'm sorry," she said. She couldn't think of anything else to say.

But he didn't look hunched up anymore. Daisy thought of something else to say.

"I don't mind if you stay. I mean, it was your home first. I'll even get rid of the pepper if you want."

"Pepper?" Luigi tilted his head. "I think it is salt that's bad for ghosts."

"Salt, pepper, whatever," Daisy said. "If you want to stay, we'll be roommates. But you don't have to pay rent."

"All right," he replied after a moment's silence. "I'll stay. And thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

Daisy pulled the gate that covered the elevator, the gate creaking with age. She heard the elevator as it rode down and when it opened there was a new, bright stain on the threadbare carpet inside.

Daisy avoided the stain as she stepped in. Her mind wandered to a few weeks ago where Luigi had managed to recover a memory. It was because Daisy had cleaned out the cabinets and found a chip bag that was still closed. Luigi had remembered holding onto the same brand while he and his brother ran to a place for a speech contest. He could grasp that it was for another language, but the closest he could think was that it was his name's origin.

The elevator stopped at her floor, and she wondered if there could be another ghost nearby, one that she wasn't able to see. She stepped out of the elevator and said, "Hello," to the closing doors and air. She didn't want to risk if there was a wrathful spirit that would take offense to a greeting.

She had once breezily asked if Luigi was a vengeful spirit. Daisy didn't really believe it – she put the salt and pepper out of sight as promised – but the hurt look she received brought up a sinking sense of guilt even now.

Daisy paused at the door, after she had turned the key in the lock. There was a thought that would make itself known when she would try to sleep or if there was a lull in the day. She would push it down because if she didn't think of it then it didn't exist.

She wouldn't stay here forever. And if she left then Luigi would be alone again. If she were to ever bring it up he would tell her to take any opportunity presented to her, she knew he would say that, but that just made it hurt more.

Daisy opened the door and smiled when she heard Luigi say, "Welcome home"; if there was anything that would help him move on she would find it.


	3. Chapter 3

It happened on a mundane day. Daisy left the TV on for Luigi because she was going to the grocery store and it would take her a while to get back. They calculated together how long it would take before she would get back in time for the good shows.

It was fun to watch him watch TV, Daisy thought. Some years of no comedy, melodrama, action or whatever really whet the appetite for entertainment. Even now the TV would become static if he went too close to it. Luigi would have this starry-eyed look in his eyes, even at game shows that Daisy thought were boring unless you had a cold and were under the faint haze of over-the-counter medicine.

They said good-bye and she had left. When she was done there was a storm raging, the rain pelting and sharp. She ran, trying to keep the groceries dry by shielding them with her arms.

When Daisy made it back she dried off her shoes at the welcome mat. There was a water trail on the carpet when she entered the building. She supposed water damage wouldn't hurt the carpets anymore than they already were.

Daisy pulled back on the gate of the elevator and made up to her floor. She slid the grocery bags on one arm as she unlocked the door, opening it.

The TV was buzzing with grey snow. On one of the window panes nearby it looked like ice froze on the glass. Frozen words were on the window from the condensation, a sheet of ice that was frantically written.

"_Thank you_."

After a few months of lull, a routine, she didn't think it would happen. She hoped for it, no doubt, but some selfish part would wish that she knew the reason why he finally moved on.

("You're not being selfish," Luigi would have said matter-of-factly but that didn't mean she would believe him.)

Daisy wouldn't know how to put into words that she was grieving for the loss of someone that had already passed, had been that way for years. There was a limit to grief, quietly instructed, but like everything it couldn't be put away neatly. There would be odd parts of the day where she would remember and brush away tears.

It made her wonder about the afterlife, rituals that brought out the dead, whether old or new.

_Chant her name three times near a mirror shrouded in darkness and she'll leap out and tear you to pieces. Walk in a circle six times in the middle of the wooden bridge. Stay away from the woman in white crying near the riverbed._

She had done nothing and yet he was there.

He was there, real, but sometimes Daisy doubted it, a part of her brain that crackled with skepticism on uneasy days; but her not broom closet apartment would feel so empty and she would know.

In the end it was her grief, her way of going about it all. A part of her life left but she would remember him.

**A/N: Originally posted on AO3 on March 11 2017-June 5 2017**

**Thank you for reading this.**


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